here I am
             in the ground
                            my mouth
                            open
                       and
            I can't even say
                       mama,
                          and
the dogs run by and stop and piss
on my stone; I get it all
except the sun
and my suit is looking
                                   bad
and yesterday
                        the last of my left
                                              arm           gone
very little left, all harp-like
without music.

at least a drunk
in bed with a cigarette
might cause 5 fire
                             engines and
                             33 men.

I can't
           do
                any
                       thing.

but p.s. -- Hector Richmond in the next
tomb thinks only of Mozart and candy
caterpillars.
           he is
                 very bad
                            company.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1464 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Charles Bukowski
Poem: Mama
Volume: burning in water drowning in flame
Year: Published/Written in 1955
There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Mama, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Charles Bukowski with others on the American Poems poetry forum!